


Bloody Magnificence

by dorkysetters



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Post Fall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23596573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkysetters/pseuds/dorkysetters
Summary: Will and Hannibal dance.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 61





	Bloody Magnificence

The house looked abandoned. No one came to the door and screamed at the sight of Will’s bloody hands while he worked on picking the lock, no lights came on as Hannibal went around the corner, climbing through weeds and broken glass to look for another way inside. He opened the door from inside just as the lock clicked. 

“Thanks a lot,” Will grumbled. They had one backpack between them; Will dropped it on the couch in what might, at one time, have been a functioning living room and watched a cloud of displaced dust fly into the air. He went exploring, found a kitchen littered with rat droppings, a bathroom whose floors groaned dangerously under his weight, and a tiny bedroom without a bed. He met Hannibal back in the living room. Will wondered if the house felt sacred and solemn to Hannibal too, if he’d wondered about the lives that had moulded themselves around the space and then left it empty and alone. 

“Home sweet home,” Hannibal deadpanned. Will decided he hadn’t. 

“Just for tonight,” he sighed. With any luck the mess they’d made at the motel wouldn’t be discovered until long after they were gone. “We’ll find a car in the morning.” 

The incessant singing of cicadas filled the silence that followed. 

Hannibal sighed. “It was foolish to go out and let ourselves be seen.”

“But.”

“But,” Hannibal agreed. 

They glared disdainfully at the couch. After months of snatching a couple hours of sleep in cramped cars or on dirty floors, a bed had seemed like a well deserved treat. Unfortunately, the locals seemed to have something against housing a notable cannibal and his probable accomplice. 

“So what now? We sleep head to foot like kids at a sleepover?” 

“That would certainly be more logical.” 

In the end they laid pressed together, face to face. Sleep, however, seemed farther away than childhood. Restless energy gathered in Will’s arms and legs until the idea of not moving for hours made him cringe. 

“I can’t sleep,” he whispered. Hannibal’s eyes were closed, his breathing slow and even, but Will could tell he was awake. He reached out and stroked Hannibal’s cheek. “You’re thinking about what I did earlier. At the motel.” 

“Yes.” 

Will had tried his best not to think about it. The scene as Hannibal must have seen it flashed through his mind now. Strained whispers outside their hotel room. The cocking of a gun, muffled almost to silence by hands and distance. Will behind the door, armed with nothing but his hands and blinding hate. Hannibal leaned against the dresser, watching as Will tore the life out of the men that had come for them and then taking more. He had taken it all. 

Hannibal kept his eyes closed. Will traced the lines of his face. “You’re happy I did it.” 

“I’m happy you chose to do it.” 

“I didn’t choose anything,” the words tasted like lies as they spilled out. “It just happened.” 

Hannibal opened his mouth to disagree. Will put a hand over it. Hannibal’s breath, faster now, warmed his fingers. 

“I can’t sleep.” 

Hannibal opened his eyes. The hand over his mouth mimicked a mask. Will moved it to rest in his hair instead. 

“I fear there’s not space enough for sleep to join us.” 

“I have an idea of something we could do to tire ourselves out.” 

“As do I.” 

Will leaned in for a kiss. Hannibal put a hand over his mouth to block it, smiled at the sudden crease of Will’s eyebrows. He stood and held out his hand. “Will you dance with me, Will?” He stood and held out a hand, an invitation. “Will you dance with me, Will?”

Will’s frown deepened. “That’s not really what I had in mind.” 

“Humor me.” 

Will started to shake his head no. And then Hannibal added a solemn please and Will took his hand and let himself be led to the middle of the room. He put his arms around Hannibal’s neck and felt the weight of Hannibal's hands resting against his waist. 

They swayed. It felt, to Will, less like a dance and more of an excuse to be close, closer than they could be laying down. It felt like they were always searching and reaching for ways to be closer than was physically possible. 

Will leaned his head back to get a look at Hannibal’s face. His eyes were closed, his mouth open slightly. He looked impossibly vulnerable, so lost in whatever he’d stumbled across in his mind that he’d forgotten, for a moment, how close death could be at any given time. 

“What are you listening to?”

Hannibal breathed in deeply, like Will had fished him from some pleasant place far away and it almost hurt to be brought back to reality. “Hm?”

“Are we dancing to anything in particular? In your head, I mean. You look like you’re listening to something.” 

“Ah,” Hannibal thought for a moment, smiled. He brought Will’s hand to his lips and kissed his wrist, right below his palm. “We are keeping half time with your heartbeat.” 

“Nice to know I’m leading for once.” 

“You’ve been leading for much longer than you realize.” 

“How long?”

“Rumi believed lovers exist in each other from the very beginning of life. I am starting to believe he was correct.” 

Will studied Hannibal’s face, the way his eyes filled with worship and adoration. “You’re breathing me in. Consuming me.” 

Hannibal nodded. “Every bit.” 

“Why?”

Hannibal kissed each of Will’s fingers, stained pink with blood, one by one. “Because, Will, you are magnificent.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hannibal: this is the best date i’ve ever been on :’)


End file.
